Sounds of Thunder
by Opal363
Summary: This is my Trowa's past fic. I know that there are many ideas and thoughts out there on what happened, and this is my take on it. ~ = Flashbacks :: = Sounds of Tunder Crashing


Title: Sounds of Thunder Author: Opal Pairings: 4+3 Warnings: Sadness, hair, mean men, and other things Disclaimers: No money is being made, I do not own GW, and I never will, my ideas and not that of the original creator! HA! Please don't sue.  
  
Sounds Of Thunder  
  
He waited, and waited. It was going to happen he could sense it, he could even smell it. That's how heavy it hung in the air. His anticipation grew with each waiting moment, and he could hardly control himself. Fighting was one thing, but a wild thunderstorm was another. His mind drifted back to the days when he was an orphan, one no one cared about and thought was useless. He smirked, if only they knew what he would grow up to be as well as capable of doing. Edging closer to the giant window, that's when the first flash of bluish light, shot down from the heavens. Its brilliant light, light up the deadly black night, for but a few seconds. Soon after that there was a roll of thunder, followed by the pats of rain slapping the ground below. Memories of his past returned.  
~ "Where do you think you're going, Boy?" A grisly man asked. Looking up with brilliant emerald eyes, the boy smiled.  
"I'm gonna go watch the storm!" He exclaimed with great enthusiasm. The old man's gray eyes grew cold, as he looked at the boy. The innocent orbs blinked and shined, even in the dimly lit room. The brown locks of silk hair, fell loosely into the child's eyes. He couldn't stand the intensity of both those eyes staring at him, as if he was holding the secrets to the world. Roughly, he grabbed the boy and dragged him to a chair. Forcing him down by his shoulders, the boy sat reluctantly.  
"Stay put Boy" The man snarled. A few minutes later he returned with a pair of scissors and a razor. "Now you best hold still. I wouldn't want slip now would I Boy" He said in a hateful tone of half mockery and half seriousness. The boy obeyed, fearing the tone in the man's voice. He felt bits of his hair slide down the back of his tee shirt, making his skin very itchy, and uncomfortable. However, he held still, scared to move, afraid of what might happen. More hair slid down his soft cheeks. Several minutes later the man grunted, stepping back to take a look at his handy work. The child now could only see out the right side of his face, as a leaf of brown hair obscured the left side of his face.  
"There! Now I don't have those two watchful eyes one me." The man mumbled under his breath. The boy looked down sadly at the wreath of brown hair that circled his chair. "If you were smart you will keep your hair like that." He barked, and then made a noise that could only be identified as him drawing up a logy. Seeing the utter disgust on the child's face he walked off. The boy looked on but wasn't really following the tall, lumbering oaf. His eyes.or rather eye was fixed on the blackening sky. How nicely it matched his mood of utter hate. He could feel the anger boiling inside of him, but there was nothing he could do against a monster like that. He watched the clouds grow darker still. He prayed. ~  
::BOOM: His lips drew up into a small smile as the storm surged on with no signs of slowing down. Between the violently flashing lightening, and the hair-splitting thunder, Trowa felt himself calming down. He wasn't sure why, but the sound of thunder eased him. Maybe because that same day his hair was cut into it's exotic style, his greatest nemesis was struck down before his emerald eye. He remembered it so clearly, ever detail.  
~Struggling with an oversized chair, he pulled him self up onto its surface, and propped his elbows on the windowsill. There stood the mountain of a man, the one who looked after him and several others though he was not his father, or their father. He was their caretaker until someone else came along. He watched the brute scare a small group of kids from the puddles they were splashing in. As soon as the children were no threat to the puddles, he went to roll up the windows in his beat up silver pick-up. He looked up and caught the staring eyes of the young boy who would grow into the Gundam pilot of HeavyArms, the one who became Trowa Barton. The older man's lips turned into an ugly sneer and the child meep in his chair. Without warning, one surging bolt of electricity connected with the man. Pure electricity fried him from the inside out. As the beastly man's body fell effortlessly to the deteriorating concrete earth below, a ruthless cackle of thunder beat across the semi black sky. ~  
Since that day Trowa never missed a thunderstorm, it was his way of saying thanks to whatever made that bolt hit his once guardian. A glitter of his lost youth was returned to him in these moments. Nothing could touch him. He felt like Zeus on Mount Olympus. Smiling he rested his forehead against the cool glass. Closing his eyes, he let out a silent yawn, and pulled away from the window to let sleep overcome him.  
When Trowa didn't return, Quatre got worried. Stumbling out of bed, he went in search of the taller pilot. He searched his entire house, and was about to give up when he came upon the lithe form of Trowa. Smiling he gazed upon sleeping body. The storm had stopped for several hours, but the rain continued to beat the earth relentlessly outside. Quatre brought back a blanket for Trowa, and draped it over the slumbering pilot, and petted the spiky hair of the sleeping soldier. He didn't know all his secrets, but one day he hoped that he could. Smiling lightly, he sat next to his partner, and decided that he would watch over him. Yes perhaps one day he would know the secrets of quiet boy.  
OWARI 


End file.
